


Temptation

by ACelestialDream



Category: Star Wars Legends: Sith Era - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Mirialan, Pureblood Sith, SWTOR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8933965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACelestialDream/pseuds/ACelestialDream
Summary: "My only passions are integrity and honor," Lord Praven told the Jedi who defeated him.  The Jedi offered him a place among the the ranks of his Order, and Praven accepted, surprised when they gave him their trust.Now Praven finds himself on Voss, in charge of escorting a Republic trooper on a mission into the Nightmare Lands.  She is friendly, engaging and flirtatious, and for the first time, Praven finds himself struggling to remain true to the tenets of the Jedi Code.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As a Jedi Knight, you have the option on Tatooine to either kill or redeem a Sith lord named Praven. How did the converted Praven adjust to his new Jedi life? Was he able to give up his Sith passions? Did he ever give in to temptation?
> 
> I believe Praven has secrets.
> 
> Rated M for future content. May up the rating to Explicit later. I did not pair Praven with the Jedi Knight because I wanted to explore how it might feel for a regular Jane Shmane character to get involved with a former Sith-turned-dutiful-Jedi.

After giving up his old Sith life to become a Jedi, Praven expected that he would have moments when he wrestled with temptation. He had grown up using the Force as a means of control and subjugation, and had gotten used to acting decisively in the face of a threat - which often meant killing first and asking questions later. Once among the Jedi, however, he found wisdom in their temperance and thoughtfulness. The strict Jedi code spoke to something already deeply ingrained in him, pushed him to seek perfection, to grapple with the harshest challenges and emerge triumphant. _That_ he could understand very well.

Praven had no trouble showing Jedi restraint and mercy, instead, it was an altogether different temptation which ended up being his nemesis. He first got a taste of it on Corellia, but not in battle, not when facing an enemy. It came in the most mundane of places -- the Republic cafeteria. It came in the form of a woman.

The war sped up the normal trajectory of his training. He was sent to the front lines of Corellia before he’d even lost his designation as Padawan. He got what he’d been asking for - a chance to fight, a chance to prove himself, a chance to be bring peace to the galaxy instead of war. He received more than be bargained for, however.

Usually, he was surrounded by other Jedi, but that day, he had been eating alone. Soldiers passed his table, dropping him furtive stares, sharing nods between them. He was a Pureblood Sith by race, and coupled with his Imperial accent, it was very hard to blend in. He was not as welcomed as he’d first assumed, and without other Jedi around him, their silent presence a way to vouch for him, he was a discomfiting reminder of the enemy they fought and died against. That was the day that he realized that not all people in the Republic were as accepting as the Jedi.

Then she had come, just another common soldier he thought at first, and had settled herself opposite him, giving him a warm, genuine smile. Her name was Wendolyn. Being around so many aliens was still novel to him, and he had to struggle to recall her species. Mirialan? She had two dark geometric tattoos under her eyes that reminded him of teardrops, and skin that was the color of rich summer grass. A smattering of freckles dusted her cheeks, the same shade of earthy-brown as her hair. She had asked him his name. The sound of her voice, sweet and light, yet with a faint huskiness around the edges, sent a thrill through him.

She was nothing like the Pureblood women he had known. She was soft where they were angular, curvaceous where many of them were slim. He answered her questions rotely, thinking himself a terrible conversationalist, too busy marveling at his body’s reaction to her, wondering why _her_ , why _this_ woman, when among the myriad of others he’d encountered, none had had this effect on him.

Praven spotted her again two days later. He was stacking ammunitions boxes near the briefing room when she walked past in the company of another female soldier. They were chatting animatedly, and then Praven heard one of them utter the word, “Sith.” He used a boost of Force power to augment his hearing, and was surprised that the unknown woman was casually disparaging his red skin and facial markings, making it known that she clearly thought him ugly. She expressed open disgust at his prominent eyebrow ridges, and claimed that all Pureblood men only wanted to dominate and cause pain. She cited as fact that “everyone knew” that Pureblood males had a spike on their private parts, a belief which was ridiculous as well as false.

Is this what circulated as fact in the Republic? He picked out Wendolyn’s voice next, and was pleased to hear her defend him. She expressed doubt about her colleague's beliefs regarding Pureblood anatomy, and then she lowered her voice so Praven had to strain to overhear.

“I find him kind of attractive actually.”

Praven selfishly wanted to hear if there was more, or to at least know the response her friend gave to that declaration, but they had moved out of reach by then.

Shortly after, Praven returned to Coruscant. Three months later, after he was officially made a full Jedi, he was called to the Senate tower and assigned his first solo mission. He wouldn’t be totally alone, as he was being paired with a partner, but he would be the sole Jedi, and therefore responsible for representing the Order well. Praven was eager to show his worth.

After his holo-meeting with Grand Master Satele, he went straight to General Garza’s office, arriving early. The General was not alone. Praven felt a jolt of recognition and then dismay. Standing before Garza was the female soldier he had overheard talking about him on Corellia.

“Captain Reese, this is Jedi Praven. Praven, this is Captain Kahani Reese. You two will be working together on your next assignment.”

Reese gave him a brief, narrow-eyed glare, as if merely looking at him was more than she could stand. She turned away stiffly, refusing to acknowledge the introduction. Garza didn’t appear to notice.

“Praven,” Garza said, “four months ago, a stolen Republic bomb was recovered on the planet Voss. I need someone to go to Voss and clean up. The Jedi order has assigned you to me to escort our Republic personnel, in this case, Captain Reese, to the site and back. The enemy hideout held other intelligence, and maybe weapons as well. Voss has dangerous wildlife, and the area you will be entering is even more dangerous than the usual. It has some kind of Force-related contamination. I’ve been told that you would be a good candidate for this mission.”

“I would be happy to help, General.”

Reese shot him another glare, reacting, he assumed, to the sound of his voice and accent.

“Good,” Garza continued. “Here is your dossier to get you up to speed. Your job is to protect the recovered items as well as to protect your partner. I need you to leave tomorrow morning, if possible.”

Praven took the datapad from her and nodded. “That won’t be a problem.”

“General, sir, I have a problem, actually. May I speak?”

Garza turned to regard Captain Reese. Praven felt his heart sink.

“You may, Captain.”

“I object to working with this _Sith_. How many of ours has he killed? No amount of atonement will bring those lives back, you know. Such crimes would never go unpunished within our ranks, and I fail to see why we should make an exception now.”

Garza folded her hands on the desk, speaking calmly, but there was a hardness in her tone. “Captain, you are out of line. Praven answers to the Jedi Council. They have attested to his character and it is not our place to question their methods, however different they may be from ours.”

Praven felt a flare of annoyance and anger from Reese. “A murderer is still a murderer, no matter if he makes sweet and says he’s sorry!”

“Captain Reese, if you cannot control your outbursts, then you will be written up for insubordination.”

She stiffened. “I have principles, sir, and I will not compromise them.”

“I will pull you off this assignment then, since I need the two of you working _together_ in this, but this will go on your record.”

Reese appeared to be gritting her teeth in an attempt not to respond.

“Dismissed, Captain. Send in Major Ardent. I believe she is waiting outside.”

Reese gave a curt salute and left the room.

Praven thought Reese had gotten off fairly easily, all things considered. Having a black mark on your record seemed far preferable to being shot with Force lightning, which is what would have happened back where he was from. Nevertheless, he did not feel anger towards her. No doubt she knew those who had suffered death at the hands of his fellow Sith. Sith were known to hold everlasting grudges, so her qualms were understandable. Praven wondered if the rest of his life, however, would be spent being reminded of his past wrongs.

Garza pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry you were witness to that. My next choice is someone who knows the meaning of following orders. Master Satele assures me that you are a fully dedicated Jedi and one that has fought in the battle for Corellia.”

“Yes, General, that is true.” He had earned high praise on Corellia, had saved lives.

There was a knock on the door and Garza called out, “Enter!”

Perhaps Praven should not have been surprised, but when Wendolyn walked in he felt his throat constrict and his palms go moist. Was Wendolyn the one he would be working with alone out on Voss? Did she think him a murderer too?

Wendolyn gave him a nod and then came to attention beside him. 

“Praven, this is Major Wendolyn Ardent. She is a twice decorated member of our elite Havoc Squad and an exemplary soldier. She will be your new partner on this assignment.”

“Jedi Praven and I have met previously, on Corellia,” Wendolyn said. Praven felt gratified that she remembered him. “I would be happy to work with him, sir.”

“You’ve met? Well, this is meant to be. You are going to Voss.” She repeated the details of the assignment, then continued, “You will be given supplies. A speeder and a hover-trailer, food rations, med kits, a tent and sleeping bags.” She turned then to Praven. “If there is anything else you need for your part of the job please let my secretary know and he will make the arrangements as long as the request is reasonable.”

Praven gave her a bow and then turned and did the same to Wendolyn. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Wenolyn gave him a surprisingly girlish grin. “Are all Jedi as charming as you?”

Praven felt his face flushing and quickly fought to control himself. He hadn’t thought his behavior at all odd and was at a loss as to what to say.

“Dismissed.” Garza said, saving him from fashioning a reply.

0o0o0

“Won’t take me long to get this stuff in order. You want to get some caf at nineteen-hundred? We can meet at Cym’s Place. Relax a bit before we head out tomorrow.” 

Wendolyn looked expectantly at Praven. He’d been acting rather skittish ever since they had left the Senate tower, and he was so reticent to speak that Wendolyn had to pry his sentences out of him. With that square jawline and muscular figure, he could have been a model in some holo-mag, yet here he was demurely covered head to toe in voluminous Jedi robes, giving her furtive glances every time she tried to get him going in conversation.

“You want to meet? At...Cym’s?” Praven looked uncertain and Wendolyn steeled herself for a rejection.

“Yeah, you know, on the corner of Nova Ave and Sunrise Drive? The place with the big red awning?”

“Ah, yes. I...that would be fine, Major.”

“Call me Wendolyn.”

“As you wish.” Praven bowed his head.

Wendolyn cast him a smile and was rewarded with a faint one back in return. She tried to imagine Praven as some wild-eyed, Force-choking Sith and couldn’t. Maybe that’s why he’d become a Jedi. He probably had politely asked his victims to impale themselves on his blade rather than inconvenience anyone.

Wendolyn looked away to stifle a laugh. When she looked back, Praven was studying her from underneath his heavy-boned eyebrows. He appeared deep in concentration. Or maybe it was just the eyebrows.

_Hot damn, the man had something about him, didn’t he? Stay professional, Wends. Don’t scare the man away now._

“So...great! See you then.” Wendolyn gave him a jaunty wave. He spun, his robes billowing out behind him, and Wendolyn pulled herself away from watching.

Unlike her compatriot Captain Reese, Wendolyn had no qualms about working with a former Sith like Praven. In spite of his known history, she couldn’t imagine Praven hurting anyone, let alone murdering Jedi with impunity. She had to remind herself that this was a man who had the power to snuff out a life merely by clenching his fist. It was a sobering thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Praven almost convinced himself to back out, but at the last minute he hopped a taxi and made it to the cafe just a hair after seven o’clock. Wendolyn stood up and waved him over to her table, which was outside on a veranda overlooking the spaceport. He had to duck to fit under the umbrella set up over their table, then he tugged his robes around him and sat.

“Hey,” Wendolyn said. “Glad you could make it.”

He nodded and gave her a fleeting smile. He didn’t want to admit that the only reason he was here was because he hadn’t been able to think of a good reason not to. Not that he didn’t enjoy Wendolyn’s company. It was just that the distraction he had felt on first meeting her had since ballooned into a full blown infatuation, and now Praven was left feeling dreadfully off-kilter. Wendolyn’s lips were moving enticingly but Praven had no idea what she was saying. Instead his thoughts strayed to the last time he had been with a woman (or was it _women?_ ) over a year ago now, when he was still a Sith. He had done things that would have shocked his fellow Jedi, and of course had thought nothing of it. For the briefest moment, he had a vision of Wendolyn inserted into his old memory, and the thought shocked him with such an unexpected heat of arousal, that he nearly fled the cafe then and there.

“Are you all right?” Wendolyn was peering at him strangely. Thank the stars she was not Force sensitive or surely she would have sensed his discomfort.

“I apologize,” he said quickly. His voice came out hoarser than he was expecting and he cleared his throat. “I am sometimes distracted the night before a big mission.”

“Have trouble winding down, huh?”

_There’s a remedy for that._ Praven pushed the thought away, aware that he was beginning to sweat. He needed to change the subject and fast.

“I know your soldier comrade had concerns about me. Do you share any of those concerns?”

Wendolyn twirled a straw in her hands. Praven had been half-hoping that catching her off-guard would reveal her true feelings on the matter, but at that moment a serving droid approached and requested his order. He chose the only alcoholic drink on their menu - stars knows he needed it - and then went back to waiting for her answer.

“No,” she said. She stared him down, her eyes wide and guileless. “I have every faith that you will turn out to be exactly who the Order said you would be. Responsible and competent.”

“Thank you.” Praven felt both relief and a twinge of guilt. “I’m sure you are aware, however, that I was trained in the dark side as a Sith. I did things that I am not proud of now. But I’ll have you know that I don’t believe I ever killed any Republic soldiers. I have killed many Sith, and my share of Jedi, but I never saw battle against the Republic.”

“I’m willing to bet that most of those Sith and Jedi were also out to kill you.”

Praven smiled. “They were.” He longed to relax here, to join in on Wendolyn’s offered comradery. For the first time though, the Jedi Code felt like a chain around his neck, unwieldy and foreign. Had he really believed he could give up attachments so easily?

“Well, now you are here, enjoying your new life. What you did was courageous of you, if you ask me.”

“There are some who don’t believe my change of heart to be sincere.”

Wendolyn waved a hand dismissively. “You left behind everything you knew to follow your beliefs, even when they went against what everyone around you was saying. That takes bravery and conviction. What was it that turned you exactly?”

This was not a question with a short and easy answer. “Is this a test?” He gave her a weak smile.

“Oh!” She looked chagrined. “I’m so sorry. I do that sometimes. Get all into something and then next thing I know I’m prying under people’s lids and riling them up. Let’s change the subject.” She sipped from her straw, her cheeks hollowing. Praven felt another wave of heat flushing through him. He took a gulp of his drink and relished the burn as he swallowed.

“Have you ever been to Voss?”

“No,” Praven admitted.

“It’s beautiful, but one hell of a place.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lots of predatory wildlife. Where we’re going the wildlife will be the least of our problems though. They have this place there called the Nightmare Lands and they call it that for a reason.”

“Garza said something about a place corrupted in the Force.”

She nodded. “Makes men go crazy. I lost a good soldier there.” She looked away, her face falling. The transformation was so painful to watch that Praven felt a tug of empathy.

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, I hope you’ve got a will made of durasteel, because you’ll need it.”

“I’ll do my best not to go crazy on you.”

“You’d better.” She didn’t look like she was joking.

“What about you?”

“The Voss put me through some ritual that guards my mind against that sort of thing. I’ll be fine.”

_But your fellow soldier wasn’t_ , Praven thought. He wondered what had gone wrong.

The talk turned to food next as Wendolyn shared an amusing tale featuring a local Voss dish that one of her squadmates had dared her to eat. Praven laughed and felt his nervousness abating. This was a relief at first, until he realized that the buzz from his drink was also making his brain less likely to filter his responses before speaking.

“Can you believe it?” Wendolyn sat back in her chair, her cheeks flushed and her laugh infectious. “He didn’t think I’d do it. Earned me a grand in credits that day.”

“That doesn’t surprise me somehow. You strike me as one to quick to take on a challenge.”

She gave him a sly smile that turned his insides to jelly. “I do love a good challenge, and not just when it comes to food.”

A chuckle escaped him. “I’ll be sure to throw some more challenges your way then.”

“You’re on, Praven.”

Had he really just flirted with her? That wouldn’t do. He pushed the drink aside, unfinished.

He could have stayed and talked to her all night, but eventually it began to get dark. He took his leave of her, reluctantly.

“I enjoyed getting to know you a bit Praven,” Wendolyn said.

“The feeling is mutual.”

She beamed at him. “See you tomorrow at the spaceport! Hanger 2B.”

“I’ll remember.”

0o0o0

The city of Voss Ka was a cultural treasure, filled with tea shops and gardens, and every terrace had a mountain view. Wendolyn noticed Praven acting curious at everything he saw, but dusk was only two hours away, so once they had their speeder packed, they headed out. The goal was to reach their first camp before dark. Even one night in the Nightmare Lands would be more than enough for anyone, so the first night they planned to stay on the outskirts and then do the bulk of their travel the following day. 

Wendolyn had requested a two-seater speeder, so they had gotten a unit with a sidecar. Given that this wasn’t Wendolyn’s first foray into the Voss wilderness, she jumped onto the speeder proper and prepared to drive. Praven took the side-car beside her without comment, and Wendolyn noted that he didn’t act put out by being relegated to passive rider status. Wendolyn drove on, wondering what kind of man Praven was and if that meant anything. Was he the kind who preferred to take charge? Or did he enjoy letting go while someone else led? And was she really letting her mind wander into that gutter so soon?

Wendolyn shook her head to clear it. 

“You are wrestling with your thoughts,” Praven commented. “Does the mission have you worried?”

She shot him a look, trying to gauge the expression on his face. “Stars, tell me you can’t read my mind, Praven.”

Out of the corner of her eye she caught him turning his head to study her, and when a moment went by without him saying anything she felt a spike of panic. _Think of kittens, the breakfast you had, anything that’s not a vision of Praven sharing your bed._ Was it too late? Had she already given herself away? Was he trying to read her thoughts at this very moment?

“Right now I feel only turmoil. And...apprehension.”

“As in _other times_ you can read my mind, but not _this_ time?”

“Maybe I-, I mean no. Jedi don’t do that.”

“But you are capable of it.”

“If you think something loudly enough I might catch it. But for me to pry deliberately...I would not do such a thing.”

“Well, that’s good I guess.”

“I am back to my original question then. Is there something concerning you?”

_Shit, the man was persistent._ “No, it’s all good. I wasn’t even thinking about the mission.”

“Ah, I see. It’s easy for me to pick up on emotional states. Being that we will be working so closely together, I have started to become more attuned to you.”

_No privacy around Jedi then._ “This is all a bit different for me, you know,” Wendolyn said. “I’ve never actually worked with a Jedi before.”

There was amusement in Praven’s voice. “Well, I’ve never worked with a non-Force sensitive before. That makes us even.”

Wendolyn turned to look at Praven. “You mean, you’ve lived in a kind of Force bubble your whole life? Never interacting with normal people?”

“I guess you could put it that way. My Sith master had me embroiled in his own politics. And since I’ve come here, they’ve kept me close to Tython. When you first met me on Corellia, that was the first time in a year that I’d been let off-planet.”

“That must have driven you crazy.”

Praven cast her a glance, as if he wasn’t sure of her meaning. “I accepted such limitations when I surrendered to the Order.”

Only then did Wendolyn realize that she probably sounded like she thought him some wildfire Sith just waiting for the chance to break free of his yoke.

“Right. I’m sorry if I implied otherwise, Praven. I’m good at putting my foot in my mouth, remember?” She smiled, hoping that he hadn’t taken her comment harshly.

“No offense taken.”

The nav machine beeped, indicating that they had arrived at their planned camp site. Praven got out of the side car and started to unload the hover-trailer in the back. Wendolyn swiveled in her seat but made no move to dismount. She had never thought about the actual moment when Praven had defected. Had he fallen in combat? Been taken prisoner? She wanted to ask, but knew better than to press him for details now.

Praven looked up at her and paused. “You want to ask me something.”

“Yeah, but I won’t. It can wait. Lots of time around a campfire to bond and all that.” She hopped down and joined him in pulling their supplies from the back. He waited a moment further and then nodded.

That night they had a bearable meal of packaged noodles and sauce, quickly stowing away any food items shortly after so as to not attract the local wildlife. Praven had grown quiet again. Wendolyn regaled him with a few more stories from her days as a fresh-faced private, and he was attentive and polite, but didn’t offer any personal stories of his own.

Finally Wendolyn rose and stretched. “All right, you want to bank the fire? I’ll get the bed rolls ready. We’ll be riding into the Nightmare Lands tomorrow.”

Praven nearly leapt to his feet. “Just leave my roll here. I will sleep outside.”

“You’re not coming into the tent? I don’t bite you know. I don’t even snore.”

“I prefer it this way.”

Wendilyn shrugged, trying to keep her disappointment in check. She was crushing on him bad, but she had to try and keep her feelings to herself. If she was going to hit on him, she wanted to do it deliberately, and not by accident when who knows _what_ thoughts he might pick up.

0o0o0

When Wendolyn went to bed Praven was still up, and when she exited the tent the next morning, his bedroll was empty. Surely the man slept sometime? She heard a noise behind her and caught him returning up the hill from where there was a small stream. He was shirtless, and the contrast between seeing him draped head to toe in robes the day before yet half naked now was a shock. Wendolyn had to bite down just to make sure her mouth wasn’t hanging open. 

His skin was a rich shade of orange-red, reminding Wendolyn of a deep, glorious sunset that she had once caught on camera and later framed. She’d seen some buff guys among her squad, soldiers who had muscles so well defined that you could trace the outline under the skin, and Praven could compete with the best of them. Yesterday, Praven had had his head hidden within the confines of his hood, but this morning his head was bare. He had jet black hair, silky and fine, and it was just long enough to be pulled into a topknot. The same faint ridges that lined his cheekbones were present down the middle of his chest as well, and as he walked past her, Wendolyn’s gaze followed, noticing that those same ridges also trailed down his back. Praven glanced her way and began to dress, hurriedly, Wendolyn thought, and she realized that she’d been staring.

“Breakfast is in the pan,” Praven said, and he gestured towards the fire, which was gently smoking in the morning haze. There was the pan sitting on a nearby rock, and Wendolyn peered in it. Crisp ronto bacon and omelettes. Somehow he’d managed to take the Republic’s vacuum-packed rations and turn it into something delicious, even that yellow sludge that they called “reconstituted liquefied egg.”

“Damn, Praven. That smells amazing. A Jedi _and_ you can cook. How long have you been up?”

“Since sunrise.”

Wendolyn sat and helped herself to a large portion. It was pretty darn good. “One of those early risers, huh?”

Praven shrugged. He came and settled across from her, his chest tightly wrapped now in the crossed bands of his shirt.

“I’m a nightowl myself," Wendolyn said. "Hate getting up early, but I’ve learned to manage.”

“So," Praven said as he reached for a portion of the eggs, "tell me about these Nightmare Lands.”

Wendolyn explained what she could, that the place was corrupted by some twisted power, that it mutated trees and plants, that anyone with an unshielded mind was said to go mad. “I’ll admit that I thought the ‘going crazy’ part was probably Voss hocus-pocus, until one of my crew lost it.”

“What happened to him exactly?” Praven’s spiked brows were knitted together tightly, his eyes intent. His irises were orange, Wendolyn noticed. Not from dark side power then. That meant they were naturally that way.

“It started with muddled thoughts, confusion, auditory hallucinations.” Wendolyn tried to keep her voice steady as she relayed the story. “By the end he was writhing on the ground and tearing out clumps of his hair. One night when we were all asleep he escaped his cuffs - we had to restrain him, you know, for safety reasons - then he grabbed a blaster and shot himself in the head. Found out later that he had lied about attending the Voss ritual that was supposed to protect us.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been traumatic for the team. And for you.”

Praven’s voice was deep and soothing, and Wendolyn found herself willing to admit to him about the guilt, random crying jags and counseling sessions. The shooting was horrible, but the memory of her squadmate’s body surrounded by the chunks of hair and scalp that he’d ripped out first was far more haunting.

“The only people who are able to protect themselves on their own are the Mystics and other Force users.”

Praven nodded. “We’ll not linger then.”

They broke camp together and repacked the trailer. Then Wendolyn washed up and readied her rifle, checking that she had extra ammo clips. Praven spent the remaining time meditating in the shade. He knelt with his head bowed and eyes closed, his bare toes nestled into the earth, looking like some exotic statue. There was something rather incongruous about his forbidding Pureblood features rendered into a pose of peace and concentration. Wendolyn worked through her preparations, watching him surreptitiously. She was anxious to get going and was already feeling paranoid and forgetful. Had she checked the ammo? Right, she had. Two times already. _Nerves_ , she thought. Anyone would be put out by having to come back to this horrible place.

At last she went and stood in front of Praven. He retained his silent pose, unaware of her standing so close. Wendolyn wondered if disturbing him was against some Jedi rule.

“Your emotions roil like a storm cloud.” Praven’s voice startled her. “Sit.”

“What?”

Praven’s eyes slid open and he gestured at the ground in front of him. There was something commanding in the way he had spoken, patient yet firm, and now he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to comply. Wendolyn dropped to the ground where he pointed, crossing her legs before her.

“Breathe.” He demonstrated, his chest filling and shoulders rising as he took a slow, deep breath and then just as slowly let it out. There was something strangely intimate in the motion, so relaxed and utterly free of self consciousness, that Wendolyn felt uneasy. It was almost voyeuristic, as if she were witnessing Praven laid bare before her, the real Praven, stripped of the restraint he had exhibited up until now.

“I don’t- this is weird.”

“Shhhh,” he said gently. “No talking. Just breathe.”

Wendolyn took a breath, but it felt rushed and shallow.

“Try again.” His voice shivered down her spine, rich and alluring. Wendolyn felt panic setting in when she realized that she was getting seriously turned on. _I would have made a terrible Jedi._

“I….I can’t. I don’t know. I’m too distracted. Or something.” _Dear powers that be, don’t let him figure it out._

“It’s all right. It was hard for me too in the beginning. I just thought it might help clear your mind before we set out.” Praven rose to his feet and Wendolyn felt a surge of disappointment that the moment was over, mingled with relief. “If you want we can try again later,” he added.

Wendolyn got on the speeder. Instead of relaxing her, her heart was skipping around even worse than before. She busied herself studying the coords for their route, hoping Praven wasn’t picking up on what was really making her so skittish. They hit the trail a few minutes later, the Nightmare Lands looming ahead of them like a land in perpetual shadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what's funny? I decided to go into the character manager and see what Praven would look like with hair. That's when I realized that my Body type 3 Pureblood Trooper was already using using Praven's face and I'd never realized it.
> 
> I also wanted to do a shout-out to "kabeone", who illustrated a comic that forever changed how I looked at Praven (and imagined hair under that cap!) I would post a link, but I just discovered that she recently deleted her entire presence from the Internet. I don't know her and she doesn't know me, but I'm very sad because I loved her stuff.


	3. Chapter 3

Wendolyn had last been here only four months ago, yet when they arrived, the cave looked like it had been abandoned for a year or more. Dust had settled in and the generator had failed, so they used glow lamps to navigate. The air was stagnant and musty, and Wendolyn had to step carefully to avoid the animal droppings on the ground.

“Great. Looks like something’s taken up residence here.”

In response, Praven unhooked his lightsaber from his belt and moved so he was walking ahead of her. “It could be Voss’s version of bats or some local rodent, but it pays to be cautious.”

Wendolyn shone the glowlamp ahead of them, letting its light pan over the walls. Objects leapt out of the dark: shelves with technical equipment, two blank computer monitors, a desk and chair. The center of the room was empty, but on the floor were tell-tale scuff marks signalling that something large and unwieldy had once been there.

It was not worth trying to get the generator going again. Wendolyn went back to the trailer and unloaded a few hefty battery packs, then went to work hooking them up to the computers. Praven stayed out of her way, occupying himself with making a regular circuit of the cave and the entrance outside. She had to call him over once to help her untangle a gigantic mass of twisted connection cables and electrical wires, which he held aloft while she carefully separated the strands. Once she gained access to the computer network, she found a motherlode of sensitive documents. The damn imps had a listening station here, and there were records indicating wiretapping from several locations in Voss-Ka. There were also geographic contour maps, holocall transcripts and lists of names of Voss government officials. Wendolyn pulled out the computer databanks whole, not bothering to copy the data. Later, she and Praven carefully carried out boxes of grenades, fuses and blaster energy packs, nearly filling the trailer to capacity.

Wendolyn called a stop for lunch when a headache began to take over. _Probably working in the dark like this. Not good for the eyes._ Eating made her feel a little better, but the headache gave way to morose thoughts of the last time she had entered the Nightmare Lands. She didn’t want to think of Private Banks now, but his agonized face kept intruding into her thoughts. He wasn’t even a member of Havoc Squad. He’d just been one of the unfortunate grunts who came in as back-up.

“Huh?” She looked up at Praven, who had been mumbling something.

He shook his head. “I didn’t say anything.”

Wendolyn sighed. She still had the back half of the cave to investigate. She wiped a sleeve across her forehead, noticing the line of dust and grime that came with it.

“I’m going to walk the perimeter outside,” Praven said. “Check out the surrounding area.”

Wendolyn nodded distractedly. She was peering into the back recesses of the cave, using the diffuse light from a nearby glowlamp on the floor. There were misshapen fabric lumps back there and she had a sudden vision of finding decayed, half-eaten bodies. No, couldn't be. The smell in the cave would be a lot worse.

She edged forward, kicking one of the bundles with her foot. It was a sleeping roll, she realized. The back of the cave must be where the imps and their Sith master had slept while spying and planning the bomb attack. The roll was losing its stuffing, and looked as if something had chewed it up and dragged some of the filling further back into the cave.

Wendolyn halted. Why would an animal do that? _To make a nest of course._

She crept forward on silent feet. Sure enough, the stuffing trail led to another, much larger pile of billowy fabric in the room’s farthest corner. _It’s empty_ , Wendolyn thought. _Long abandoned. Has to be._ She and Praven had been here hours already. Surely no animal would have tolerated their presence for that long without making itself known. Wendolyn stopped to stretch her back, idly wondering what animal had once called this place home.

Then she saw a pinprick of light blink at her from the pile. Two pinpricks. No, four. The nest heaved and a tiny purple head shakily raised its nose into the air. Wendolyn froze.

The nest was filled with babies. Wendolyn didn’t dare step closer for a better look, but it was some creature with a back frill. Tiny teeth crowded around the animal’s mouth, visible even when it was closed. Definitely a carnivore.

The baby sniffed the air and then suddenly stretched its mouth open, a long purple tongue snaking out of its jaws. It let out a trilling squawk. Wendolyn spun around and walked back the way she had come, taking long strides and trying to move as quietly as possible. The baby was still making noise, louder now, and soon a second had joined in. Together they made an ugly, inharmonious chorus of high-pitched growls and shrieks.

Wendolyn reached the desk where she had propped her rifle and snatched it up, disengaging the safety and flicking on her night vision scope. She grabbed the glowlamp, snapped it shut and made for the cave entrance.

A shadow fell across the ground before her. Wendolyn jerked to a halt. A large, four legged creature was blocking the entrance, some kind of combination of cat and reptile with protrusions like tusks around its jaws. It hissed, shaking its head, and four scaled back frills stiffened and rose along its spine.

It crouched and sprang.

Wendolyn fired her rifle. She was a good shot, a damn good one, but the creature was moving fast and her streak of blaster fire flew wide, ricocheting off the cave’s ceiling and kicking up a spray of dirt.

Wendolyn threw herself into a roll and tumbled just out of the way of the creature’s claws. The thing screamed...actually screamed, a hideous, savage sound that reminded her of the agonized shrieks of Private Banks before he died. It skidded to a halt close-by and stared her down with four glowing blue eyes, then shook its head and let out another ear-splitting scream. Its claws left deep gouges across the dusty floor.

Then it was in the air, headed for her face, and Wendolyn had one terrifying moment where she got an eyeful of its mouth, jam-packed with sharp canines, and an underbelly of iridescent blue scales. She ducked her head and threw her arms up instinctively.

There was a loud buzz, and a flare of brilliant blue lit up the cave. Wendolyn’s eyes snapped open to see Praven coming down as if he’d flown in from the sky, his lightsaber ablaze like a star. Wendolyn knew that Jedi had crazy-ass reflexes, but Praven moved with a speed that almost was too fast for her eye to follow, his arm sweeping out and his lightsaber cutting through the air. Its trajectory left behind a blur of light across her vision.

Wendolyn expected to see the creature’s head sailing through the air -- nothing could have withstood that blow, surely -- but instead Praven’s blade connected with one of the beast’s bony back plates, carving out a chunk, but doing little damage. The creature threw out a powerful swipe with its front paw, rearing up for leverage, and Wendolyn watched in horror as the tip of the creature’s huge paw connected with Praven’s skull. His head snapped aside, his whole body reeling, and he tipped sideways and fell.

He hit the ground, rolled, and then vaulted to his feet again. He jabbed at the creature with his lightsaber and this time, the blade sliced through the animal’s flesh. Its front leg dropped to the ground.

The creature screamed, stumbling and thrashing for balance across the floor, and then launched itself into the air again. Praven thrust his lightsaber at its belly, piercing it through. For a moment it gurgled and bucked, and then went still.

Wendolyn blinked. Already Praven had her by the arm and was drawing her to her feet.

“Are you hurt?” His voice sounded urgent and loud in the confines of the cave.

“I...I don’t think so.”

“I heard your blaster shot and came running. That thing was vicious. I can only assume it was protecting its lair.”

“There are babies in the back of the cave. That must have been the mother. I found them and they started crying. That’s when she showed up.”

Wendolyn swung her rifle back over her shoulder. Her arms and legs were so shaky that she could barely stand upright. Praven kept a grip on her arm as he led her out of the cave. Wendolyn sunk onto the first nearby rock she saw and waited for her heart to slow.

“How much did you have left to get from the cave?”

“Not much I guess.” Damn, even her voice was trembling. “I think...I got all of it actually. The back of the cave just had old bedrolls and stuff.”

“Good.” Praven was acting distracted, his gaze roving the landscape around them, his hand still poised near his belt. “I think that was a crysfang.”

“A what? How do you even know that?”

Her turned back towards her. “I was reading about Voss wildlife last night, before I fell asleep.”

“So you _do_ sleep.”

He gave her a perplexed look and Wendlyn waved her hand. “Nevermind.”

Finally satisfied that the danger had passed, Praven reattached his lightsaber hilt to his belt and let out a deep breath. He grunted and his hand flew to his head.

“Are you all right?” Wendolyn got to her feet.

Praven was looking at his hand, which was darkened with blood. Wendolyn walked around him and saw a thick rivulet of blood trailing down his cheek.

“Crysfang got a hit on me,” he said.

Wendolyn stretched onto her toes for a better look. There was an open gash across Praven’s scalp. Not deep enough to be serious, but it was messy and would only get messier if they didn’t clean it up.

“You need to get some disinfectant on that. I got some in the speeder cab.”

She stood up, her legs steadier now, and began rummaging in the storage compartment of the side car. She pulled out a medkit and handed some sterile wipes to Praven.

He dabbed at his cheek, then winced as he tried to do the same to the cut on his scalp. His hair was falling out of his topknot, Wendolyn noticed. The whole side of his head was smeared with blood, and his hair was sticky and matted.

“Why don’t you sit down and I can help you with that?” Wendolyn offered.

He cast her a glance and then nodded, walking over to sink onto the rock she had used earlier.

Wendolyn grabbed a bottle of water from the trailer, a tube of disinfectant with an eyedropper, and a clean cloth. She went over to Praven. He bowed his head so she could more easily reach him. Even sitting he was tall.

Head gashes were gorey business. They bled all over the place and then stuck your hair together in clumps like glue. Wendolyn had seen this sort of thing often enough. She was relieved that Praven’s looked shallow and the bleeding was already slowing. She grabbed the water bottle and soaked the cloth, then carefully began to wash the matted hair around the cut.

“Would you mind if I take down your hair?”

Praven made a murmur of assent and Wendolyn’s hands hovered over the elastic holding his hair in place, feeling suddenly self conscious about touching him without the cloth as a barrier between them. His hair was black, true black, not the dark brown that was common to most humanoids. In the afternoon light it shone with highlights of silver. Wendolyn began to gently pick at the elastic.

Noticing her hesitation, Praven reached up to take care of it, and his hand bumped into Wendolyn’s fingers. She pulled back.

“Thanks.”

Praven drew off the elastic and his hair slipped free, falling past his neck and shoulders. Wendolyn touched the top of his head, hesitant at first, and then sunk her fingers into his hair. She drew her fingernails gently across his scalp to move the strands aside. They were so soft and fine that there was no resistance against her fingers. Praven breathed out a faint sigh. She risked a glance at his face to find his eyes were closed.

She worked on the gash some more, noting that Praven didn’t even flinch. Maybe Sith and Jedi were used to dealing with pain. It was not a deep enough cut to even need stitches, thankfully, which was a good thing, since Wendolyn had never stitched a wound before. She used a dropper to deposit a line of disinfectant across the cut, then gave a last swipe around the area. Her curiosity got the better of her and she paused to study his face. There were striations all down Praven’s jawline. Were his ridges hard as bone or made of something softer? She trailed a finger down his cheek, quickly as if she were still cleaning him up. They felt a bit like callouses, bumpy, but not sharp. She pulled her hand away.

“Does the pattern of Sith markings run in families?”

“Hmm?” Praven sounded sleepy. “Yes.”

Wendolyn peered at Praven’s eyebrow ridges. They stretched out along either side of his forehead like spikes. Definitely bone. She was reminded suddenly of her colleague Reese’s assertion that Sith Pureblood men had hidden barbs everywhere, including their most intimate places. “Everything is a weapon to them,” Reese had said, her voice bitter. “Everything.”

“That’s not true,” Praven mumbled softly.

Wendolyn froze, then resumed stroking his hair, hoping he hadn’t noticed how much he had startled her. Had he read her mind?

“What’s not true?”

“That Sith men are barbed. The barbs you see on our faces are the only ones we have. We are not barbed...elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I knew someone once who thought that though.”

“I know what people think.” Praven opened his eyes and raised his head. He stared straight ahead, not looking in her direction. “But Pureblood men have procreated with human women for centuries, remember. Voluntarily I mean,” he added, his head bowing and voice growing sleepy again. “Not…” he hesitated, “...through conquest. That would not be possible if we were not compatible.”

Wendolyn realized that she had stilled her fingers, so she began feathering her hands again through his hair. She noticed his shoulders lift in another sigh.

“People can come up with strange ideas to explain things they are ignorant of.”

“Like your friend, Reese.”

“More a colleague,” Wendolyn corrected. “than a friend.” She had not told him that Reese was the one who had told her this, only thought it in her head. “You can stop reading my mind now.” Wendolyn laughed, trying to lighten her words.

Praven jerked away, turning to stare at her. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to...I didn’t even realize…”

“I know,” Wendolyn reassured him. “Just freaks me out a little sometimes.”

He stood up and glanced around, as if he had forgotten where he was. “We should get back to work. See if there’s anything left to load up.”

Wendolyn nodded, her mood sinking again now that the moment had passed. “Sure. maybe we can head out of this place soon.”

“I’m going to check on the crysfang kits,” Praven said. His loose hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes. He tossed his head, a motion which appeared to be both a habit and an annoyance to him. “Maybe there is someone back in Voss-Ka who does wildlife rehabilitation.” He turned away and strode into the cave without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the next chapter, I will be bumping the rating to a "E."
> 
> ...if that gives you any idea of what's to come. Heh.


	4. Chapter 4

Praven wasn’t keen on the idea of driving through the Nightmare Lands at night, but Wendolyn seemed determined to avoid spending a night here. It had taken them four hours to drive to the cave from their camp site. They still had at least two hours to go to get back, but it was starting to grow dark. Sleeping in the Nightmare Lands was not Praven’s idea of fun either, but he had dealt with restless spirits and threats of madness before on Dromund Kaas. That was preferable over the idea of losing the trail and crashing their speeder into a ravine.

Wendolyn was not coping well with the restless, corrupting energies of this place. Praven had been watching her, and he was growing concerned. She muttered to herself at times, and kept rubbing her temples. Could be that she just had a headache. Or it could be something else. Wendolyn told him she had undergone the Voss protection ritual four months ago. How long did such protection last? Had she even thought to ask about it being done again?

The speeder jerked and Praven looked up at see they had veered off the path. The hover trailer behind them jostled against its cushion of air, the items inside banging and clunking as they shifted around. The speeder began crashing through underbrush and over exposed tree roots causing Praven to throw out his hands to avoid being smacked in the face by a low-hanging branch.

“Wendolyn! Where are you going?”

She was staring intently ahead, her lips moving as she mumbled something Praven couldn’t catch.

“Wendolyn!”

“Can’t you hear him?” she asked, her voice growing plaintive. There were tears dropping down her cheeks, and her face was contorted with misery. “He’s screaming. He won’t stop screaming.”

“No,” Praven called, “no one is out there. Stop the speeder!”

She ignored him, twisting the throttle so the speeder leapt ahead at even greater speed. Praven yanked his legs out of the side car and lunged for speeder’s handlebars. She was heading right for a huge tree. He jerked the wheel to the side and the speeder skidded wildly in the dirt. He called over to Wendolyn again, this time putting the pull of the Force behind his words.

“ _You will stop the speeder!_ ”

Wendolyn released the throttle and jerked her hands away from under his. Praven flung out his leg and slammed on the brake. They spun, and Wendolyn’s body was flung away from him. Praven threw out his arm and grabbed her using the Force, then yanked his fist back towards his body. Wendolyn jerked and then flew towards him as if on a rebounding spring. Her body crashed into his and he caught her, but he tumbled off the speeder and landed hard in the dirt, wrapping his arms rightly around her to shield her as best he could from the fall.

He groaned and rolled onto his side, depositing Wendolyn on the ground beside him. She sat up, looking around wildly. “What-what happened? How did we crash?”

Praven lay on his back and took a few slow breaths. She was leaning over him, her eyes clear and full of awareness now.

“You drove us off the path,” Praven said. “Said we had to rescue someone. Do you remember?”

Wendolyn rubbed her forehead. “Oh stars, no. It’s happening to me. It’s happening to me now.”

Praven rose and walked over to where the speeder lay in the dirt. The trailer was still attached and Praven thanked the Force that none of the ordnance inside had exploded. The speeder looked fine. Dented in one place, but no worse for wear.

“We’re going to stay here,” Praven said. This place was as good as any. He returned to Wendolyn’s side and offered her his hand. “We’re also going to reshield your mind.”

She looked up at him, tear streaks still visible on her face. “You can do that?”

“I want to try.”

She placed her hand in his and he tugged her to her feet. She cleared her throat and quickly wiped her eyes, then gave him a brave smile.

She was quiet that night as they ate around their campfire. Praven remembered all the times she had put him at ease with her animated stories, and so he began telling her about his first days as a Padawan, trying to focus on the humorous parts. He told her the story about the five year old youngling who had proudly given him “lessons” on wielding a practice saber when she found out he was new to Tython. Wendolyn smiled at that. Then he gave her a demonstration of the time he had mistaken an important Jedi diplomat for one of the training referees, and had promptly turned around and smacked his face into a door while trying to get away in his embarrassment. She actually laughed at that one.

“I like hearing your stories, Praven.”

‘“I like hearing you laugh again.”

Her face broke into a grin and Praven decided that she truly was beautiful.

They retired early. Praven placed ultrasonic emitters around their campsite to keep away the wildlife. Then he sat across from her inside the tent.

“Close your eyes and clear your mind,” he said.

Wendolyn sat cross-legged in front of him, her knees almost close enough to touch his. Praven could feel nervousness churning about her. He wondered if she was afraid of what would happen if his shielding failed or if she was uncomfortable with the the thought of him touching her mind in this way.

“I can’t think of just _nothing._ That’s impossible.”

“Then think about the cadence of your breaths, or the beat of your heart.” He gentled his voice, letting it grow quieter. “Imagine them slow and soothing, the rhythm of your life force beating in time with the world.”

Wendolyn stopped fidgeting. She smiled, her eyes still closed. “That’s very poetic.”

He refrained from admonishing her for talking. He kept up a slow commentary, trying to guide her in a simple meditation as he had been taught among the Jedi. Gradually her thoughts ceased their frantic jumble, her breathing slowed and he felt a fragile peace settle over her.

“I’m going to try and shield you now,” he said. _Please let this work._ He had only a rudimentary idea of how this could be accomplished. “You may feel my presence.”

There was a spike of worry from her and Praven spoke quickly to reassure her. “Think of me, not entering your mind, but gently circling it, leaving behind a trail of power. I’m creating a wall of protection. It’s a one-way wall. It does not contain you, but it keeps corruption out.”

She gave a faint nod.

Praven reached out with the Force. Wendolyn’s thoughts were quiet and her mind receptive. He had expected this process to be entirely a one-way endeavor, and so he was surprised when he felt her presence around him like a gentle weight. It enveloped him, soft and nebulous, and for a moment his concentration wavered. He realized that while her thoughts were closed to him, her emotions were not, and he found himself lost in a tumble of conflicting sensations. Wendolyn carried with her a zest for living, a stubborn kind of optimism that infused and uplifted him. Beyond that tumbled bits of uncertainty and courage, and last of all, a hint of...loneliness. His own mind responded, surging forward in recognition, filled with both pain and hope. He breathed in, startled, and forced himself to pull back, alarmed at the power of the yearning that had awoken inside him.

The Jedi had kept him too cloistered, he realized, and now he was starved for personal connection, his long year of denial choking him like an animal straining its leash. Is this why the Jedi counseled such temperance and restraint? Once fed, he feared this longing would overtake him.

Praven threw himself into his task with renewed determination. He swaddled Wendolyn in the Force, building a barrier that was as strong as he could make it, not knowing if such a thing could truly be left behind once he had withdrawn. He pulled back slowly and then opened his eyes.

“We’re done.”

She blinked. “Thank you Praven.”

“I’ll be right outside tonight. If you need me.”

0o0o0

Praven laid his bed roll directly outside Wendolyn’s door, so that she would have to step around him to get by. This, he assured himself, would keep her from wandering off without him knowing. The night here was darker in the Nightmare Lands, the shadows gloomier, the trees bent and heavy as if weighed down by a burden. Praven practiced stilling his own mind and fortifying the Force around himself. There were no insects sounds here, no chirring of nighthoppers like he had back home. He felt the corruption like a smudge of grime staining a window, making his thoughts blurry if he let it. It pushed against his mind like a weight settling over him, but he pushed back and the feeling eased. At last he drifted to sleep.

He awoke in the middle of the night. The first thing he did was to reach out with his mind to check for Wendolyn. She was still there. Something was different however.

Praven lay still still and quiet, assessing what had changed. The thought of Wendolyn asleep so close-by, curled in her own bedroll a mere step away, distracted him. He imagined her wearing something light and comfortable, and wondered, not for the first time, how things might have gone if he had allowed himself to share her tent.

She desired him. He could feel it. Her thoughts blundered into his sometimes, and he caught glimpses of the way she saw him. Strong, mysterious, noble. He had drifted into a kind of lull today while her fingers twined through his hair, and it had been worse than being drunk. He had felt her curiosity over his features, her urge to explore by touching him. He had allowed it, craved it even, because he hadn't been strong enough to resist.

He took a deep breath and let his thoughts dissipate. _Peace, not passion._

The feel of her desire for him had not abated. He turned his head, suddenly understanding. She was awake. And she was thinking about him. Right now.

She thought he was asleep of course. He doubted she would ever allow her thoughts such free reign otherwise, not when she now knew how easily he could catch what she was thinking. Praven’s heart picked up speed. Her need curled around him like smoke, wrapping him in a delicious haze that obscured his attempts at rational thought. He shifted in his bedroll, feeling uneasy, his own need for her rekindling. He tried to block out the encroachment of her emotions but he was quickly losing track of where her desire ended and his began.

He clenched his eyes shut and tried to push his thoughts away towards something mundane, but instead he caught a flash of Wendolyn as she was in the tent right now, squirming and needy, unclothed on top of her bedroll. Praven bit his lip to stifle a groan. She was disappointed, resigned, wanting him but not expecting him to reciprocate. He did not have to deny her. He could get up, release the magnetic seal on the door, and go into her tent right now.

He froze on his back as another vision of Wendolyn burst across his consciousness. She was reaching between her legs to touch herself.

Praven’s breath caught in his throat as his loins flooded with heat. He hadn’t been with anyone in over a year. He had abruptly gone from being a Sith, to living the life of a Jedi, with barely any transition in between. In his old life he had dated women when he wanted, but now such thoughts had to be analyzed in light of new principles. Praven had not pondered overmuch the Jedi rule against attachments until now. For the first time this problem was a thorn of guilt niggling in his side. He did not want to accept that satiating this passion should be forbidden.

He slid a hand down his body. He was already hard enough to ache. Lifting his hips, he eased his clothes down, relishing the feel of his cock springing free. Her arousal was fusing with his, expanding like a brightening star, blinding him to all else. He let her passion envelop him, surrendering, and stroked his hand over his erection, feeling his cock pulse against his palm.

Wendolyn’s emotions were strong but her thoughts hazy. Praven wanted to see into her mind more distinctly, to know her dreams and desires. He admonished himself. He should not invade her privacy anymore than he already had, not deliberately anyway. It was one thing to soak up the overflow of her passion, quite another to probe for it with intent.

Her mind was a cup poured to the brim, so Praven caught the unguarded thoughts that fell away, drinking in her ecstasy like a man starved. He saw her now as she saw herself, naked, open, yearning for _him._ The tip of his cock grew slick against his fingers and his body flushed with heat. He tore off the bedroll’s outer layer, exposing himself to the stars, knowing that he was doomed if she should exit the tent now, yet feeling a thrill at being so unhindered just the same.

She was gasping for breath and so was he, his strokes growing more urgent, every muscle in his body flexing, his throat tightening, his thighs tightening, his cock tightest of all. His imagination took over, and he was there in the tent with her, his head between her legs, his shoulders pinning her thighs to the floor, his tongue exploring her with no thought as to propriety or shame. She was straining against him, wanting more, helpless in his arms as he pleased her.

Praven’s breathing was growing ragged, his arousal building to painful levels. He was inside her now, sinking deeper, moving slowly so as to relish the feel of her body enveloping his. No, not slowly, this was his fantasy after all. He took her swift and hard with desperate thrusts.

His cock spasmed and he gritted his teeth in an attempt not to growl with abandon, feeling his hand and stomach touched with wetness as he came. He lay still, gasping as his muscles gradually unclenched and the kiss of a breeze cooled the sheen of sweat across his skin.

Moving quietly, he rose and cleaned himself off, then crept back inside his bedroll. One more day with her. That’s all he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a while to get this chapter posted. I had it written but then I wasn't satisfied and kept wanting to make edits.
> 
> More story to come!


	5. Chapter 5

Wendolyn had hoped to get more time with Praven, or at least a proper chance at goodbye. As soon as their speeder pulled into Voss-Ka, Wendolyn was swept up in unloading, signing documents, meeting with officials, and giving her report to General Garza. She came back to look for Praven at the first opportunity, but he had slipped away.

Was there any chance he would be at the party tonight? Wendolyn feared that Praven had left on the first transport out as soon as his mission was complete. Now she was stuck going to this frilly Voss soiree and she didn’t even have a date. Garza had told her in no uncertain terms that her favorite hiking boots and sleeveless top were not going to be acceptable, so skirt it was. At least this one was short enough to allow natural movement. _Too girly though._ Wendolyn grabbed her comfy leatheris jacket, so cracked and worn that it was now soft as a kitten’s belly. _Call it a compromise. Hell with Garza._

The party was being held in a vast reception hall on the edge of Voss-Ka. Garza gave her the stink-eye when she spotted Wendolyn’s jacket, but Wendolyn squeezed into a chatty circle of Voss commandos to avoid getting an earful. Wendlyn could have easily spent the entire evening in the commandos’ company, but once the appetizers were laid out, the group dispersed. She filled a small plate with some food and then escaped to one of the balconies.

There was a Jedi on the balcony, dressed in soft voluminous robes that disguised everything about him except for the back of his head. His sleek, dark hair was twisted into a topknot and Wendolyn skidded to a halt to catch her bearings. He appeared lost in thought, unaware that he was no longer alone. Wendolyn joined him at the railing and cast him a smile.

“Hi Praven.”

He straightened and turned, then touched a hand to his chest and gave her that same bow that had made her heart flutter back on Coruscant.

“It’s good to see you,” he replied. “I’d hoped you might be here tonight.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing. I was afraid you had left Voss already. Don’t like the crowds?”

Praven looked behind him, where guests’ voices mingled together in a background hum, and then returned to the balcony railing to gaze out over the valley. “Darth Serevin is here.”

The Empire was still wooing the Voss, just as the Republic was, each side hoping to secure an alliance before the other. Wendolyn was not surprised to hear that the Empire had found a way to weasel their Voss ambassador an invitation. Last she heard the idiot was still trying to deny that the Empire had anything to do with the bomb.

“He hates me with a particular passion,” Praven continued. “Thinks my mere existence is an insult to our race. I have no doubt he would kill me if he thought he could get away with it.”

“I’m sorry. Everyone on the squad thinks he’s a dick.” _Damn it Wends,_ she thought. Spend half an hour with the guys and she was already talking with a trash mouth. “Umm, that wasn’t very polite of me.”

“It’s all right,” Praven said. “‘Dick’ is a good term for him.” He shot her a smile.

Wendolyn choked down a laugh and then decided to keep her mouth busy for a bit by trying the appetizers on her plate. She held some out for Praven. He thanked her and selected a tiny crepe smaller than his thumb. Just as Wendolyn went to take bite of her own though Praven startled her by reaching out to touch her hand.

“That one’s a garnish, don’t eat it.”

Wendlyn looked down at the dainty peach-colored swirl in her hand. “What? Seriously? Have you been reading up on Voss cuisine in your spare time? You know, after you were finished with the encyclopedia on Voss wildlife.”

Praven laughed, a rich sound that sent a thrill down her spine. “No, I learned it the hard way. Tastes terrible.” He gently plucked the garnish out of her fingers and tossed it over the railing.

“Well, thanks for warning me.” Wendolyn poked at her plate. “Is this safe?” She pointed at a purple blob shaped like a tear-drop.

“I recommend one of these.” Praven took one of the tiny crepes and held it out for her to bite. Wendolyn leaned forward and let him feed her the crepe. Praven watched her in silence a moment, his orange eyes flickering across her face, until she started to feel a bit self conscious.

“Look,” he said, and he gestured out past the railing at Voss-Ka laid out before them. “This is the best view in the city.”

Wendolyn followed his gesture and let out an appreciative whistle. The city was a tapestry of light and color, glittering and peaceful, the empty streets looking like golden rivers. No doubt most Voss were tucked away at home, sipping from dainty tea cups while writing sonnets or whatever it is the Voss did for fun.

Praven edged closer, his hand resting on her shoulder as he pointed to something in the distance. “That bright spot is the market square, and the big round building is the temple.”

“Oh yeah, I see it.”

Praven’s hand slid from her shoulder down to the center of her back and idled there, and when Wendolyn looked up at him the starlight glittered in his eyes. He released her and looked away. Wendolyn was surprised to see anguish written plain across his face, the first crack she had seen in his confident Jedi exterior. 

“Is everything ok, Praven?”

“Yes,” he answered, “I mean...no.” He gazed away across the valley. “Back in the Empire,” he said, his voice soft with reminiscence, “I faced death on a daily basis, not only from the enemies I fought, but from my master himself, who did not tolerate mistakes of any kind. It was no way to live.” He breathed deep, his shoulders rising as if he were shrugging off a burden. “The Republic is a place for second chances.” He caught her gaze, and his eyes were so bright that Wendolyn almost took a step backwards, startled by their intensity. “I grabbed that chance with both hands,” he said, “and have never looked back.”

Wendolyn nodded. “I’m glad you came here.”

For a long time, Praven was quiet, and Wendolyn began to wonder if he was gearing up for a lecture on how he wouldn’t throw away everything he had here just because she’d been giving him googly-eyes for three days. She wasn’t sure what kind of Jedi restrictions he was under exactly, but no doubt he was under more careful scrutiny than other Jedi, given his past. Wendolyn sighed inwardly and stared at the distant horizon. She liked Praven. She respected his dedication and wouldn’t push him to go against whatever teachings he was trying so earnestly to follow.

“I was thinking,” Praven started. There was hesitation in his voice. “About...those second chances.” He met eyes with hers, but looked away again just as quickly. “There are some things that I wish I’d done differently,” he continued, “and I was wondering if I could have a second chance to do things over. With you.”

Wendolyn tried to give him an encouraging smile, but her pulse was quickening so rapidly she was starting to feel a bit dizzy. “Of course. What do you want to start over with?”

Praven stared at his hands for so long, saying nothing, that Wendolyn finally took a chance and sidled up next to him, letting her arm brush against his. She reached out and grasped his shoulder, pushing gently until he turned to face her. She smiled at him and this time it appeared to give him courage.

“I wanted to start over,” he said again, stronger this time, “with this.” Then he was closing the small gap between them, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek and his fingertips sliding into her hair. His mouth covered hers, and he kissed her with surprising intensity, until Wendolyn was left feeling breathless and lightheaded.

“That was a great start,” she said.

“I didn’t want to stop.” He buried his face against her neck, planting more kisses, wet and eager, from her ear to her collarbone, his breath a flutter against her skin.

“Who says you have to?” Wendolyn managed. Her legs were growing too weak to hold her.

Praven tore himself away. His color was high, his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. “Would you like to take a walk with me?” he asked. “Somewhere less crowded?”

They were already alone on the balcony, where the sounds of the local night insects were louder than chatter from the party, but anyone could find them here. _Kriffin’ hell, he was trying to get her alone. That kind of alone._

“Sure,” she answered. She set the appetizer plate aside, the food quickly forgotten. Her throat was going dry. _No, no, Wends, he’s a Jedi, as prim as they come. He probably wants to demonstrate his favorite meditation poses or something._

Praven led her back inside, weaving easily through the crowd. He was almost a head taller than many of the men there, nearly on height with the much larger Voss. Groups deep in conversation edged aside to let him pass, not even breaking from their discussions, their actions a subconscious acknowledgement of his presence. For not the first time, Wendolyn wondered what Jedi had had the audacity to challenge him when he was a Sith, and the skill to win their duel. Praven turned once, giving her a lingering look to make sure she was still following, and Wendolyn had the strange thought that maybe he was casting some Jedi voodoo on her to make her suddenly so speechless and compliant.

_If that’s what it is, sign me up for more Jedi voodoo, thank you very much._

They exited out a side door and headed up a incline laid with stone steps, moving up towards the crest of the hill.

“There are ruins here, did you know? Even Voss records are uncertain as to their origin and age. They include elements of both Voss and Gormak architecture.”

“I didn’t know that.” Wendolyn decided that she was so distracted by now that Praven could probably start listing the scientific classification of plant life and she would be just as interested, as long as it was his voice doing the talking. They reached the apex of the hill and Praven turned to clasp her hand for the final few steps, which were steep and riddled with crumbling stone. He didn’t let go as they continued deeper into the ruins.

They passed into what remained of a square structure with small niches built into the walls, probably for statuary, and Praven stopped.

“How did you find this place?” Wendolyn asked.

“By accident,” Praven said. “I wandered here earlier this afternoon.”

No wonder she hadn’t been able to find him after her debriefing with Garza. Wendolyn kicked aside some fallen debris and walked deeper into the shadows of the ruins. There was no ceiling, but above them trees with gold and purple leaves created a swaying canopy that painted a dapple of pale starlight across the floor.

“Wendolyn,” Praven said. His hand touched her elbow while he came around to face her. “I couldn’t let you get on that ship and leave here without…”

“Without a proper send-off?” Wendolyn grinned. She grabbed Praven by the front of his robes and pulled him close. “Enough talk. Just kiss me.”

Praven caught her head in his hands and did just that, and Wendolyn found herself pressed tight against him. His kiss was long and bold, his tongue easing between her lips to stroke her own in a hint of intimacy that caused Wendolyn’s lower half to flood with heat. His voluminous robes tangled in her arms as she tried to embrace him, but she found the hem of his neckline and pried her fingertips under it to at last touch skin. She was rewarded when she got the neckline loosened enough to bare his upper chest and allow her hands free reign. His skin felt hot beneath her palms, smooth and hairless except for the tiny ridges that formed a “v” down the center of his chest. It was not enough. She wanted to feel all of him against her, skin on skin. Wanted to explore every hidden part of him that his robes had forbidden her access to.

_So this is why the Jedi swath their knights head to toe in fabric,_ she thought. _Huh. Like that could keep me out._ Wendolyn had broken into more densely guarded fortresses before.

She explored at a feverish pace, struggling to find a coherent waistline between his sash and tunic, then growled in frustration when she felt the tease of his erection against her hand. Great Gundarks she was wet and ready, and probably soaked through her underwear by now.

“Is that so?” Praven murmured against her ear. His hand quested along her thigh, moving up underneath her skirt until his fingertips brushed against her through the fabric. He tucked a finger underneath her underwear and slid a finger inside her. He groaned and then muttered something that sounded like, _“kotswin nun!”_ Definitely not basic, whatever it was, Wendolyn decided.

She decided to test the limits of this Jedi mind probing, and purposely conjured up the most lurid image of their coupling that she could, explicit and wonton in every detail.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Praven muttered.

He backed her against a wall, propping her against a tiny narrow ledge, then gripped her thighs and mustered between her legs so that the force of his body held her in place. Wendolyn locked her ankles around his waist and combed her fingers into his hair, turning his topknot into a tangle. He pushed against her, urgently, his hips thrusting between her thighs, and Wendolyn couldn’t stand the anticipation anymore.

She squirmed underneath him, wriggling her hips in attempt to shimmy out of her underwear. For the first in maybe, well, _ever,_ she was glad she had worn a skirt. Praven reached underneath her clothes and curled his fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear, then yanked it down, nearly tearing the fabric when it got stuck between her and the wall. He clutched one thigh against him as he tilted aside to take turns pulling each leg free. Then he crushed her underwear into a ball in his fist and shoved it into a pocket. Wendolyn got a sudden hilarious image of him finding her underwear much later at a perfectly inappropriate time.

“Now you,” Wendolyn said breathlessly, tugging once again at the sash around his waist. _Damn chastity belt._ Praven ducked his head against her shoulder and angled his hips away, and Wendolyn heard the swish of fabric. His arms jerked as he pulled his pants down off his hips. 

“Stars, hurry!” she groaned. She caught a glimpse of him in the dark as he pushed between her thighs once more, and the incongruity of seeing him so exposed while the rest of him was still blanketed under his robes was strangely arousing. He was heavy and rigid and just as ready to go as she. She reached between his legs and grabbed hold of him, eager to guide him into place.

He was hot and already slick, and as her fingers stroked along the shaft, she paused. He was ringed in small, calloused ridges, similar to the ones on his face and chest. Two of them, and she could swear they were swelling larger as her fingertips caressed them.

There was a puff of air against her neck as Praven let out a laugh. “Find something unexpected?”

“Mmmm,” Wendolyn murmured. How very wrong Reese was. “Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Now, Force help me, fuck me before I pass out.”

“As you say.” Praven pressed forward, pinning her against the wall and forcing her thighs apart. He entered her in one motion, and Wendolyn squeezed her eyes shut, relishing the satisfaction of his hips flush against hers, knowing he was full on inside her at last. She gripped his shoulders and buried her face against his neck, feeling enveloped in him - the clean, cottony scent of his robes, mingled with a spicier musk that was all Praven. The stone wall behind her dug into her back, poking into her shoulder blades, but it paled in comparison to the way he was filling her now, driving into her with full-on thrusts. She had been practically on the cusp of breaking before he had even entered her, and now the pleasure roared into a crescendo that howled in her ears and made her muscles stiffen. She let out a stream of unintelligible words, or maybe it was just “yes” over and over and over, and then a light cracked open behind her eyelids and she dispensed with all sense of propriety as a cry spilled out of her.

She cradled Praven in her arms as he rocked against her, relishing the shudders that remained, and gripped him tight when she felt his movements begin to take on the reckless abandon that meant he too was on the verge. He crushed her against the wall in one final thrust that took her breath away, then let out nothing more than a one long, strangled gasp. Then his muscles went limp.

Wendolyn stroked his hair and whispered his name, and for a moment they remained locked together, the sheen of sweat along Praven’s chest dampening Wendolyn’s cheek. Then he gently extricated himself and eased her down from the wall.

“Feel better?” Wendolyn asked. She tugged her skirt back into place, grateful that its heavy fabric would probably be enough to keep it from flipping up in a breeze. She pretended to forget about her underwear.

Praven rectified his skewed clothing, and then closed his eyes a moment in silence. “Are you...should we have...I should have asked, I-”

“It’s ok,” Wendolyn assured him. “I get regular stims and check-ups. No baby Pravens. I promise.”

Praven covered his face with a hand, shaking his head, possibly in embarrassment, although whether it was at himself or her own boldness, Wendolyn wasn’t sure. Then he looked up and smiled. “All right.”

“You should fix your hair.” Wendolyn pointed and Praven reached up with his hands, quickly loosening his hair and then tying back into place once again.

“You too,” he said.

Wendolyn laughed. Her own bun had completely unravelled and she hadn’t even noticed. And she thought Garza was upset about the ratty leatheris jacket...She shook her hair out and combed her fingers through it. “Good enough. Let’s get back before anyone has time to miss us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who read this story when I first posted it, I apologize for taking so darn long to get this chapter out! I rewrote it completely at one point, kept editing, and sometimes just let it sit and molder because I just wasn't happy with it. I think its time to let it go and stop fussing over it though, so here it is.


	6. Epilogue

Praven looked out from the balcony of the Jedi Temple on Tython. In a few minutes he would enter the Council chambers to give his report. By all accounts he had done well. Any sensitive materials left behind by the Empire had been retrieved, all weaponry and ordnance hidden in the bunker had been secured. The trooper he’d been assigned to protect had come home safe and unharmed, thanks to his intervention when the Nightmare Lands had gotten the better of her. Even the tiny orphaned crysfang kits had found fostering at a nature conservatory on Alderaan, and with some rehabilitation they would be released back into the wild once they were old enough.

The Council would want to know more than just the official highlights of his trip, however. They would try to assess how he had responded to the pressures of being the sole Jedi on a non-Order run trip. They would want to know how easily the responsibility sat with him, or if he had encountered any difficulties.

If he had faced any temptations and how he had dealt with them.

Praven pressed his hands together and breathed deep. They had asked to see him the moment he had disembarked from the transport, not even giving him time to visit his quarters and unpack. That was intentional, he suspected. They wanted to hear his report while the memories were still fresh, before his mind had the chance to reconstrue any interpretations beyond the most objective facts.

He raised his head and placed his palms on the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal beneath his hands. He would not tell them about his transgressions with Wendolyn, and transgressions is indeed the way the Council would see it.

Why? He tightened his grip on the metal. He had hurt no one, nor had he compromised the mission. Perhaps his behavior had been unprofessional, true, but he had not let his desires interfere with the goals of his task. He had done what they had asked of him.

He was not the only Jedi to slip into self indulgence like this, he knew. He would not be given the same treatment, however. His behaviors would be delved into in great detail, his motivations scrutinized. Praven understood this even though it still rankled at times. He had been on the opposite side of the fence once and they had put their trust in him just the same. It was a privilege to serve the Jedi, and an honor.

He did not know if he would ever see Wendolyn again. He hoped that fate would show him otherwise, but perhaps it was for the best. They could never be more than just friends or occasional lovers. Praven accepted that. He was a Jedi and that came with the territory.

He did not regret his dalliance, however, and that realization surprised him.

The door to the balcony opened and his Cathar friend appeared, gesturing to Praven to follow.

Praven straightened and stuffed his hands into his pockets. There was something there in one of them, something he didn’t recall putting there.

“Are you ready?” Gatten asked. “The Council has asked for you.”

Praven twisted his fingers into the fabric, feeling it silky and delicate against his skin. The answer came to him in a burst of recognition. He lowered his head to disguise the smile that threatened to overtake him.

“You all right, Praven? You’ll do fine, you know. This is just a formality.”

Praven slid his hand out of his pocket. How like Wendolyn to leave him this parting gift. As if she knew that once away from her, it would be too easy to write off their time together as a feverish dream and nothing more. 

He may be a Jedi, but he was still of Sith race by heritage, and passion was in his blood. No, he did not regret his actions at all. He could be a Jedi and still not deny who he was. He breathed deep and nodded to Gatten.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! This is the end of Praven's story...for now anyway.


End file.
